Black, White, And The Things In Between
by Golden Snowflake
Summary: What happens when a servant turns against his master? When two squad-mates realize they like the same girl? When stalker hens attack? All this and more is explored in my beloved collection of stories found here.
1. Heartbreak

Hi there! This is going to be my collection of ideas too breif to be whole stories. I have quite a few ready and waiting to be typed, so buckle up and prepare for lots and lots of strangeness!

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**Chapter One - Heartbreak**

xXxXx

He rose shakily, eyes huge and hollow, lips parted. He took one step, two, stumbled and ran, only coming to a stop when the toes of his boots were inches from the small, crumpled shape. He dropped again to his knees, extending a quivering hand. Tingles ran up his spine when they connected with the thick mess of black hair at the top of the dark form. Beneath his touch it parted slowly, and he drew back like he'd been electrocuted when her pale face appeared beneath it. Her eyes were closed beneath the curtain of thick eyelashes; her full lips sealed forever.

She was gone.

Gone forever.

Tentatively, pulling in a shaky breath, he lowered his fingers against her smooth, cold skin. It was like silk … the way he'd always imagined it. Letting out a sob he fell onto her, wrapping his arms around her broken body and pulling it against him. She was the enemy. She was the embodiment of evil. Yet he had loved her, deep in a part of his heart he kept locked from the world and tried to ignore. He loved her. And now she would never know.

* * *

Forgive me; I know it's short. But I didn't need any more words to depict what I wanted. The next chapter is longer. So who do you think it was?


	2. Misfit

This one's a wee bit longer than the last. I hope you enjoy it!

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**Chapter Two - Misfit**

xXxXx

What was it?

Was it envy of them?

"I told you, Piper! You _never_ believe me!"

"Well, sorry! You're usually wrong, so I assumed you were this time, too."

The blonde narrowed his eyes scornfully. "You know what they say about what happens when you assume. You make an a-"

"Finn," chided Aerrow sternly over his sandwich, "That's enough."

"But she started it!" He pointed at Piper and she shook the pepper shaker over his lemonade. "What are you – HEY!" Junko laughed and Stork rolled his eyes as the blonde and the dark-skinned girl began to bicker.

The girl observed quietly from her spot on the edge of the blanket. No, it wasn't jealously of the group of friends. She'd never liked large of crowds of people.

It was envy of the acceptance. Of the luxury of fitting in unconditionally.

On Terra Rex she didn't have that.

* * *

I didn't have anyone in particular in mind when I wrote this. I just think that it would be hard to grow up in such a proper, narrow-minded society if you were imaginative or unique. Not that I don't like Harrier or anything. Actually, I think he's pretty cool. (shrugs)


	3. New Navigator

I've been planning to write this one for quite a while. I love the Blizzarians!

* * *

**Chapter Three - New Navigator**

xXxXx

"Nice to see you again." He flashed his award-winning smile, shaking her furry hand as she grinned brightly back.

"Thanks a million, eh! You guys look like ya been trainin' since we last crossed paths, eh!" Finn nodded and flexed his biceps. He was promptly elbowed by Piper.

"Oh, you're the Storm Hawks!" A Blizzarian with blonde hair under a ski cap materialized beside Stork and he shouted and zoomed behind Piper. "You're Stork, aren't cha? I've heard yer the best carrier pilot in the southern skies, eh!"

The merb blinked. "You have?"

"And yer Piper! You know more about dem crystals den anybody! Yer one of my greatest idols dere!" She blinked her huge eyes at Piper.

"Well, thank you! I'm flattered!" But by the time she'd spoken, the Blizzarian was fawning over the ballistics expert.

"An Junko, it's a pleasure ta meet cha! Yer supposed to be the kindest, smartest wallop in all the Atmos! I can't believe I get ta meet ya!"

Junko blinked in surprise. "Gee. Thanks!"  
"Finn, yer the best at sharpshootin' ever! It's a real honor, eh!"

The sharpshooter grinned suavely and pointed both index fingers at her in his trademark salute. "An Aerrow, I never admired somebody more! You're an inspiration to us all dere!"

"Uh, thank you!" The redheaded sky knight laughed sheepishly. "And who might you be?"

"Oh, dis is our newest squad – mate," explained Suzie Lu, popping her gum and smiling cheerily again. "Meet our new navigator, Mary Sue!"

* * *

I have Christmas music in my head. And Kenley's voice, complaining, as usual. But this time she's complaining to Christmas music.

Do I need help? o.o


	4. Onyx and Gold

McCain and Palin came to Ohio today. I was ecstatic about seeing them. Then Mom found out I have a Geometry test tomorrow, and my plans went down the drain.

I HATE STUDYING!

* * *

**Chapter Four - Onyx and Gold**

xXxXx

She was intelligent. Clever. Worldly. Beautiful. Everywhere they went, her friends had to glare protectively to fend off male onlookers.

He was snide. Hyper. Immature. A trouble-magnet. Everywhere they went, annoyed boyfriends had to chase _him_ off with protective glares.

Yet … when he wanted to, he could be very witty. Agreeable. And _almost_ charming.

"How goes the research?" He looped an arm nonchalantly around her shoulders, award-winning smile on his lips and ice-blue eyes narrowed flirtatiously.

A smile tugged at her mouth, but she managed to prevent it.

"Fine," she answered casually. "I think I found a way to harness a thunderbolt crystal's power to make it work almost like a furnace crystal."

"Really?" He blinked, his stare moving to her microscope as she peered into it again for a moment. "That's cool."

"It'll be a life saver if we get stranded somewhere," she added cheerily. "Aerrow will be happy to hear about it."

"Y'know, there _are_ other people to impress besides Aerrow around here."

She blinked at him innocently. "Stork?"

"Um, no." The girl held her clueless expression as annoyance edged his tone. "I don't know, like blonde, cute sharpshooters who like being impressed by pretty navigators, maybe?"

"I know some blonde sharpshooters," she shrugged sheepishly, making his arm move. "But no cute ones."

"Hey!" She smiled innocently and turned back to her work, pulling one slide out from under the lens and putting another in. The weight borne by his arm increased as he leaned down and his mouth brushed against her ear. "At least the cute sharpshooter isn't stuck-up and boring like the cute navigator is."

"Hey!" Irritated, she stood indignantly up, brow furrowed and amber eyes blazing. But he was already out the door and running down the hallway, off to cause trouble for someone else.

He could be witty, agreeable, and charming. But most of the time, Finn was just a brat.

* * *

I like toast. c:


	5. Memories

**Chapter Five - Memories**

xXxXx

I released the breaks and leapt onto my seat. I could feel my heart beginning to race and my teeth buckling against each other. There he sat, eyes narrowed and flicking over the array of warriors against him. My friends. But he didn't dare look at me.

I know how it will happen. This time, I'll think, I'm going to win. I'm finally going to get what I deserve and give him his. Not over some terra. Not over crystals. For my family, my friends, our world.

I'll kill him.

Yeah, that's what I always think. Three minutes later I'm collecting the shards of my pride and running the other way. Perhaps I'm smirking as _he_ turns the other way. Never though do I defeat him the way I want to. Covered in his blood.

I try to fight it, I really do. I smile at Piper's glowing yellow eyes. I talk to Radarr. I praise Stork and Junko for how well they keep our ship together. Sometimes I can even cut loose and wrestle with Finn like we we're little kids, laughing and shouting and breaking plates and knocking Piper's maps all over the counter and floors. Then she yells at us, of course, and we settle for racing through the skies until we're exhausted and hungry and want to go back. But none of it can console me. My memories are more than I can take.

I can still feel my father ruffling my hair.

I can still hear my mother laughing.

And I can still see him.

"I'm back!" He gazes at me as I blink and leap off my bed. I race to the doorway and stare up at him. It's a battle, coppery-red eyes against green, and somehow I win. He gives in and smiles first. I then raise my hands in triumph. He laughs and picks me up.

"Did you win?"

"By a mile." He carries me down the hall.

"How many?"

"Five."

"Really? No way!" He only chuckles.

"Your father almost fell off, though."

"It was your lousy flying, wasn't it?

"Not at all. I fly perfectly."

"No you don't! Nobody's perfect!" We reach the bridge and I stop him. "Pssst."

"What?"

"Put me down."

"Ah. Too old to be carried anymore, eh?" I give him an annoyed look and he puts me down. He fluffs my hair before I wave his hand away, making him laugh as I lead the way to where my dad and the rest of the squadron stands. They're all smiling at each other and then at the two of us. If I'd had any doubts before, I know now that they were victorious. My dad salutes to me and I return it- standard sky knight protocol. The evening is spent plotting a course to the next terra where help is needed. My father told me before about a group of nasty raptors that didn't seem to know how to be civil. This was their current task. After a big supper and playing hide-and-seek in the hangar, getting the whole group involved but dwindling down to only my dad's co-pilot and I at the end, I sit with him in the lounge-room. I'm swinging my legs over the edge of the couch and he's reading something.

"Ace?" I tug on his sleeve and he puts his book down, blinking at me. "Are the Cyclonins-"

"Cyclonians," he corrects.

"Are they winning anywhere?"

"Well-" he looks as if he's going to say something clever or comforting but sees how serious I am and decides against it. "Only a few places. It's a problem, but not a big one. Unless they get twice as many soldiers I could take them on myself." He smiles at the chance to brag and I stick my tongue out.

"They won't take over, will they?" It's nervous and I realize how badly I've been trying to hide the idea. I'm embarrassed when tears of worry fill my eyes.

"I don't know, Aerrow." He pauses, and terror makes my heart beat harder. Never before have I considered Cyclonia winning. I know the sky knights will win. I always have. Than he speaks again. "Not if I have anything to do with it, though. The Storm Hawks will stop them."

I'm just little, but something about the sincerity and courage in his eyes touches me. My heart slows to its normal speed and my tears fall, but no more blur my gaze. His black hair falling around his eyes and his sincere smile fill me with a small flicker hope. I'm still scared, but I trust him. I believe in him.

When you're little, things are done for you. You eat while others bring you food. You hope while others fight for your hope. But it isn't like that anymore. The people who loved and cared for me are dead. All except him, he who killed them and betrayed them and me. He who was a teammate.

I pulled my energy blades from their holsters and bared my teeth as the wind beat against my face. As I did he drew his sword, and I could see his teeth too. Rage flooded my veins and I growled in anger. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, illuminating Junko on my right and Finn on my left. The Talons streaked in all directions and both fell away to fight them. But I kept flying straight and so did he. My mind filled with the thoughts I'd fought down since he killed my father, the father who he acted as when my own was away.

_You were my hero. _

_You were my brother. _

_I loved you._

I let out an angry cry as I leapt from my skimmer to his bike, our blades about to screech against each other as our eyes met again, locked in a battle of deceit and hate. He's my reason for living. He's my reason for fighting. And in a sick way, he's my hope. His words of encouragement still linger inside me, and I know he was right.

Someday the Storm Hawks will stop them.

_And someday I'll kill you._

* * *

3.17.2008 - that's a long time ago!! I was checkin' out my older stuff and thought this was noteworthy. Sorry it skips around a lot - at first it even switched tenses the whole way through. Hopefully the odd style didn't hurt the quality. It was kinda just for me to explore Aerrow's thoughts toward Acey - I hope it didn't turn out like the stereotypical DA/A reflective fic!

Yeay Storm Hawks! CX


	6. Sleepy

**Chapter Six - Sleepy**

xXxXx

"Pssst!"

He was there again.

"Go away," she murmured, a tired kind of speech that was nearly unconscious. He chuckled and her chest was suddenly light and her lungs were tight. Before she opened her eyes she could feel his cute grin on her face. His red hair was brilliant against the dull hue of her ceiling.

"Morning."

"It's still night! Shoo."

"No," he replied simply, green eyes twinkling. She laughed mutedly, a hand finding its way up to his perfect little face. His skin was soft and smooth, and he smiled more as her nails skirted over his cheekbone.

"You're such a _child_," she exclaimed sleepily.

"It's part of my charm," he answered innocently, still grinning beautifully. She laughed again, hand moving under his chin and cupping it. "Please get up?"

"I'm not stupid," said she, half-awake and losing awareness as the moments passed. "It's two in the morning if even that far." Her last word hadn't been quite right … she was sure of it … ah well. He was still adorably beaming, so it had been amusing and not annoying.

"Please? I wanna play," he said softly, boyish little voice cracking as his face brushed her bangs. The springs coiled up inside her at the close proximity and she shifted under the covers to make it go away.

"_No_," she said, not at all minding that she sounded like a babbling teenage girl again. That's what she loved about him. "Stay here."

"And do what? Jump on your bed?"

"Just - stay! Curl up next to me. I'd like sleeping…" (yawn) "…next to you."

"No you wouldn't," he mumbled against her ear. His scent was like a spice cabinet's. "I snore, and so does Radarr."

"Liar."

"I'm serious."

"No you aren't. Go away." Her palm had slid down to his chest. It was small but tight beneath his shirt. His warm fingers brushed her cold wrist and the springs gave a little twinge within her abdomen.

"Please? Just do it! You'll be awake in a minute." His tone was pleading and playful and sweet and magical. Her sleepy smile grew more and she chuckled softly.

"I'm going back to sleep, Aerrow." His breath was wafting against her neck and his hand had closed on her arm. "Stay here. Please?"

"But I want-" Her fingertips were cold-feeling on his warm, chapped lips and he smiled beneath them. He burbled something out as her vision darkened dangerously with unconsciousness for a long minute and she laughed again at his painfully adorable manner.

"Please? Be a … good host."

It was quiet, but she pulled her eyes open to meet his radiant emerald ones. It was very much worth it.

Silence enveloped her and he as movement jarred her numb, weary body. He pressed against her side through the covers and his hand rested on her shoulder. She was the big sister and he was the little brother. In an odd, smitten and fluttery sort of way. He blinked up at her and she sensed it through closed eyes and a fading smile.

"Goodnight, Aerrow."

"I _do_ snore."

"Be quiet."

And like that, he did. His sweet, spice-scent wafted over her and the pressure of his breaths pushed comfortingly into her side. Through the slow, gentle, thick blanket of sleep that settled back over them, she clearly thought this.

_I'm glad I joined them._

_

* * *

_

This was inspired by a few of Imogen Heap's songs, namely _Goodnight and Go_. And I kinda pictured Aerrow as Rob Pattinson-esque here ... wearing a tight t-shirt and muscular. Do you like the pairing? Do you like the chapter? Letteth me know!


	7. Distractive

I like this one.

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**Chapter Seven - Distractive**

xXxXx

He watched her in heightened interest, his brilliant blue eyes following the slow, fluid movements of her delicate fingers over the stone she studied. She knew he was there. She was ignoring him with all her power. For the more intense his fascination with her grew, the harder it was to pretend he was just a kid. His obnoxious and smug comments had become few and far between, and as soon as she would retort, he would fall silent. He would only stare at her, unblinking. Refusing to look away and refusing to be the little boy she so relied on as a staple of her life.

And so he did now. He reclined against the counter, slim shape still and arms crossed. His pale eyes clear and intense as he watched her work. She pressed the lens of the microscope shakily into place as his stare burned its way slowly over her pointed shoulder and down her back. She wanted to shiver; to squirm from beneath it. Forcing her mind off him she turned the dial and her microscope lit.

"Are you researching the crystal Aerrow brought you?"

Since his change he had become observant. She didn't like the intelligence. It was unnerving.

"Yeah."

His eyes were warm on her waist. Her fingers were stiff as she pulled the device to her.

"Do you know anything about it yet?"

"No. N-nothing yet."

She bit her lip. Had she really stuttered? How could this be getting to her? She swallowed and peered into the eyepieces. But her eyes refused to focus. "Finn, don't you have anything better to do?"

She was only answered by silence. Gripping the edge of the table to keep steady, she peered over her shoulder at him. His eyes were striking in the darkness of the lab. He blinked and remained still.

"Go see what Junko's doing."

"I want to watch you," he murmured softly.

"Well it's making me uncomfortable." She swallowed again, her throat dry and tight. "Get out."

Suddenly he pushed himself from his spot, striding toward her. Her heart sped up as he moved above her bent form and her muscles contracted when his hand came down on her shoulder. "Don't make me leave. I wanna watch you."

"I-" she blinked up at him, insides churning. He looked so different from this angle.

He looked like a sharpshooter.

"Don't touch me, Finn-"

"Oh. Sorry." He pulled back.

She had never felt as strong a feeling as then. Her mouth opened without her permission and almost begged for his hand to come back. The thought horrified her and her heart began to beat faster. It was as if, in that spit second, he had somehow gripped her soul and pulled a little of it painfully out of her body.

"Finn," she breathed, struggling to regain her composure and to attain that condescending _bad little boy _tone that she'd somehow forgotten how to find. "Go bother someone else."

"No," he replied instantly; softly.

_Thank God._

"_Finn_," she said again, more insistently. But he wasn't listening; not even considering her angry voice. He was looking into her pupils; through her skin. She wanted him out. "Th-that's it, you're going to have to leave. I need to _work_ here!"

His glorious orbs of eyes had shifted; flicked away from her nervous stare. False rage fizzled up in her stomach. "What are you looking at?!"

And even before she'd finished the sentence she knew he was gazing at her lips as they moved. No, he couldn't be. _He wasn't_.

He was.

"F-Finn, stop-"

He was moving closer.

A million bubbles of frenetic terror filled her limbs and core as he exhaled; breath warm and sweet. And while her mind screamed to turn away, to grab the microscope and swing it as his stupid blonde head, her body was anchored still. Half - turned and covered in goosebumps. It was too late now to stop him; he was four inches away, now three, now two and a half, and his mouth was half - open, she could feel her heartbeat in her throat and the blood was rushing in her ears and she was supposed to be looking at that stupid crystal and he smelled _so_ good-

His mouth pressed against hers and her mind went blank as the sound of her pulse roared over it.

The sweet scent of his musky skin flooded her senses as she breathed and he slid an arm around her. She had never imagined his lips so smooth and soft. The bridge of his nose was cooler than hers and suddenly everything was deathly silent.

He slowly pulled back, breath flooding onto her chin and neck. Her eyes fluttered open and there were those horridly beautiful eyes; half - open and pupils burning. Her bangs fell between them and she smashed her mouth against his, twisting around and gripping his shoulders, shuddering as he wrapped both slender arms around her waist. His hair was like satin and his heart thundered against hers. Her mind was lost and all that cut through the heat were the ripples of electricity that rattled through her skin and muscle from his fingertips. She opened her mouth for more air and pulled harder, sure now that her soul was being pulled out through his hands. Something told her that this was cruelly fated; that it was somehow ridiculously, mockingly inevitable.

Had he always been like this? Was he hiding it?

Or had he changed because of her?

She only knew there was no turning back now.

And he smelled wonderful.

* * *

Started … sometime, finished March 16, 2009. This one was backed by Imogen Heap's _Have You Got It In You?_ Actually, her music is great inspiration for odd, messy, sensual writing. She's a genius. (GO F AND P!!) So ... whatcha think?


	8. Static

**Chapter Eight - Static**

xXxXx

He stopped, sucking in air. Willing his heart not to beat. It was too loud; he couldn't hear over it.

He clenched his blades until his fingers shook. Slowly, silently, slid his index and middle fingers over the triggers.

The triggers that would end this. But he had to be ready.

Something.

A tiny whisper of air. Activity, movement. A thought.

_Dammit._

He whipped around, held his breath again. It knew he'd heard it. His heart was beating against his chest as his pupils dilated and ice crept through his limbs.

It was over there.

Wasn't it?

_Trust yourself._ It was a clear command in his whirling mind. Whirling until every horrific idea about the outcome of this rose into a scream, an ear-splitting cry that made his teeth grind against each other.

Breathe, he told himself. Keep control.

Now he could feel it. A cold, thinner-than-air presence.

Darkness.

_Evil._

His fingers tightened more, now he was frozen. Frozen in adrenaline and terror. He had to end this, he _had_ to.

And it was ending now.

* * *

Combination of Aerrow versus Dark Ace and the creepy music from the soundtrack of _The Uninvited_. VERY scary movie and soundtrack. April 17, 2009. Maybe if I put this in context by including it in a longer of my fics, how frantic I felt will be better conveyed. Hmm...


	9. Crash

**Chapter Nine - Crash**

xXxXx

Heart pounding, she sprinted toward her home, ducking when shrapnel flew past her, slicing the back of her neck and hissing as it hit the dirt. She darted to her door, grabbing the handle and pulling.

"Come on. COME ON," she screamed, panic rising up her throat as the twisted the knob in vain. There was a huge screech above her, making her jump. Her eyes widened in horror as she craned her neck upward.

Leaning over the edge of the roof stood a man with black hair and blood-red eyes. The awning over the second story was hanging from the wall above her, scraping the wood as it swung. His sword flickered against the blood-red sky as he moved it to the other bolt securing it.

"Never support a counterattack against Master Cyclonis," he shouted. "Unless you want your lifespan to shorten _considerably."_

"Don't!" Tears sprang into her vision as her knees shook. "Please _don't!"_

He swept his blade across the hanging scrap of steel, and it groaned at it broke from the wall. She screwed her eyes shut, letting out an ear-splitting screech as it covered her with its shadow.

_Crash_.

Nothing.

Pulling one eye open, she looked up. She gasped with shock.

Before her stood a huge creature, thick legs spread apart and elbows bent. He shook beneath the weight of the awning as a strangled growl rose from his chest. His cloud-colored eyes were narrowed with the strain.

He flung it to the side, ground shaking when it hit.

"Y-you-" She dropped her arms, uncovering her face.

He turned to face her, staring at her. "No problem. It's my job." And without another word, he raced away.

Mouth open, she blinked.

"Thank you."

* * *

Typed and completed June 23, 2009. (Started around June … 4 or 5?)

GO JUNKO!!!


	10. Bright and Early

**Chapter Ten - Bright and Early**

xXxXx

Bright and early. I sit up and stretch for a long moment. It's a gorgeous morning. I'm the first one up, like I usually am. The bridge is sparkling like it's on fire as I go in and look around. Everything inside is the same, yet the sunrise is as unique as everybody on Atmos. This one is the prettiest yet.

Yet as I smile at the glorious splendor, I suddenly find myself sad. Profoundly so. On mornings like these I think of my mother and how her strawberry blonde hair lit up almost as brightly as her smile on mornings like this. How she carried me in her arms; how she danced with me across the yard. And how happy we were when Dad would come home, dirty and tired and just in time for breakfast.

I miss them a lot.

When I get sad, I don't feel bad about one thing. I'm reminded of all the other things I try to let peacefully sleep in the recesses of my mind. I think of Dove and Wren and I wonder if they're okay. I remember how lost Wren looked without his beautiful granddaughter. I think of the Blizzarians. How are they on Terra Nord? How hard it must be to have to keep running from the Cyclonians, never to see their old home again. I'm too scared to ask Piper if she's bothered about the whole Lark thing, even though we're best friends. And pretty soon, instead of the brave, stoic leader, I'm scared like a little kid.

I squint as the sun blinds me. It's like it's coming up in notches, a little bit brighter every few seconds. It hits the time pulse sensor and the whole room lights up like electricity. I walk back a few paces and into the shade of the hallway. It's incredible how stunning a simple metal ship can become with a little bit of nature's touch. Knowing I'm so small, so helpless against nature, is incredible.

_But you're not_, a voice in me head tells me. While I can't stop a storm, I can change the world. That's what I live for: justice for my parents, safety for Terra Gale, a home for Suzie Lu and Billy Rex, happiness for Piper and everybody.

I'm thankful for that. The power to protect the innocent, the strength to spread hope where it hasn't gone before. I go from bummed out to cheerful again as I contemplate these things. And even though it's a fight, a battle, a war; life isn't so bad after all.

* * *

June 23, 2008. (A year ago today!!)


	11. Secrets Between Friends

**Chapter Eleven - Secrets Between Friends**

xXxXx

The hum of voices fills the rooms of the well-lit, warm home. The door closes almost inaudibly because he's careful. Neither consider locking it – they're just playing. There's nothing secret about two in a group of friends. His eyes are wide as he whispers against her neck and she squirms from the sensations it causes. She responds in small, smart fragments of words and pushes him lightly away. He laughs – a ridiculously carefree sound, and she pokes him with all ten fingers to stifle it. It works – he shrieks. It's her turn to laugh. Annoyed, he pushes her onto the bed and makes it creak when he lands on top of her. He adds to his last statement and she mutters her disagreement, pushing her small palm into his face just to annoy him. He turns his head to avoid it, and she grins. Finally he's had enough – his tan fingers wrap around her dark wrist and pull her hand from his face. His whisper is of encouragement, and she doesn't argue. He moves his hand from her wrist to her waist, and she blinks at him knowingly with her luminous ocher eyes. Her palms rest on his chest and she pulls herself off the blankets to meet his mouth with her own. There's nothing too exciting or stressful about it. It's just another event in their currently intertwined schedules.

And besides, there are no secrets between two of a group of friends.

* * *

June 4, 2009 ... Maybe I should change the rating to M? Let me know!


	12. Mechanical Angel

All hail awesome chapter titles!

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**Chapter Twelve - Mechanical Angel**

xXxXx

The boy stared, awestruck, at the man before him, forgetting his terror.

His red hair whipped in the wind as he stood up, and his armor gleamed in the sunlight. He was tall and slim, and didn't look very old. But he held himself with pride. His emerald eyes were wide and focused, and not a flicker of uncertainty could be found within his pupils.

As the skimmer with another fighter on it swooped low, he leapt. The light illuminating him and the boy squinted as he watched the figure fly over him. He landed on his feet as the bike roared over, and as the boy shielded himself from the wind, the redhead drew his blades and crouched as Cyclonians surrounded him on all sides.

Ready for attack.

_Everett!_ The child heard his mother screaming his name from the safety of the building across the street as the roar of battle filled his ears. But he was frozen; anchored to the spot. Staring after the tall, slim redhead who had fallen from the sky like an angel with mechanical wings, he wondered,

_Is that what a hero looks like?_

* * *

Aerrow's so cool. X3

What do you think? I need your feedback!


	13. What Just Happened?

MINDWORMS!!!

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* * *

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**Chapter Thirteen - What Just Happened?**

xXxXx

The Condor's bridge was quiet this morning. The navigator stood at her post, leafing through maps and calculations as the pilot stood at the helm. Suddenly he glanced over his shoulder, blinking his big, yellow eyes. "Hey, Piper."

"What?" The petite girl looked up.

"You don't have mindworms, do you?"

"No, Stork, I don't."

The pilot turned back to the helm.

Piper looked up again. "What? Why do you ask?"

The merb shrugged. "No reason."

"I'm _telling_ you I don't."

Whipping around, Stork threw his arms out. "Well how do you know the mindworms aren't eating away at your brain without you knowing? You could feel fine and have half your left lobe missing!"

Piper frowned. "Then why would you ASK me?!"

"For that exact reason! You say you don't, but-"

"Stork, I don't have mindworms. Not one." He nodded at her assuring tone, turning back to the controls.

"Then do you have pneumonia?"

"NO! Am I wheezing?!" She put her hands on her hips and glowered at the back of his head.

"No. It might not be severe yet, though."

"Why don't you just LOOK down my THROAT and SEE FOR YOURSELF??!"

Radarr padded into the bridge, took one look at Piper's expression, and dove under her table.

The merb's tone was a disgusted one. "Um, no _offense_, but that would be really unsanitary."

"THEN LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

"Fine." He hesitated. "Would you mind checking around the ship for me?"

The navigator sighed. "I _guess_ not. For what?"

"Clowns."

"WHAT?"

He was already standing beside her with a clipboard. "Here are the signs."

Piper took it and her eyebrow went up. "What the-- Red nose, little water-squirting flowers… conveniently-placed storm drains?! Stork?"

Stork blinked. "Yeah?"

"You are…"

"A genius? A weirdo? Covered in giant spiders I can't see?!"

"COMPLETELY PARANOID!!!"

He crossed his arms. "No I'm not, I'm _cautious_."

The girl threw her own arms out. "You're scared of, like, everything, and it's getting worse."

Suddenly the green pilot gasped. "I know what!"

"Go see a counselor?"

"No, I know what's wrong with _you! _You have mindworms in your lungs and you got pneumonia from _them!"_

"STORK!"

"Yes?"

"You need to calm down."

"I _am_ calm," he replied evenly.

"Well, yeah, I mean I know you're calm, but you don't need to worry so much."

"I'm not worried."

"I know. I meant negative."

"I'm not negative. I'm happy all the time."

Piper's face twitched. She stuck an accusing finger out and poked him in the chest with it. "No! You're not! Negative is THE word for it!"

Stork lifted his chin and retorted flippantly, "I just don't want you getting infected with mindworms or pneumonia or killed by psychotic murderers posing as clowns."

Sighing, Piper murmured, "I promise I won't. … Just one more question."

"What would that be?"

"Would you care if _Finn_ got pneumonia or mindworms or eaten by clowns?"

"Not really."

"Junko?"

"He'd break a lot less stuff…"

"Aerrow?"

"Nope. Strong immune system would help cure them all."

"So…" the girl smirked.

"Wait, what are you saying?"

"You just said that you don't care about anybody as much as me."

"I didn't say that." Stork's eye twitched.

Piper crossed her own arms. "More or less," she said smugly.

Stork scowled. "I did not!"

"You did too!"

"DID NOT!"

"DID TOO!"

"And what if I _did, _little miss know-it-all??!"

"Then I care about you _too, _jerk!"

"Well, _good!_ I'm GLAD YOU DO."

"I KNOW."

The merb clenched his fists and leaned forward. "Well if I'm so great, why don't you just DATE me?"

Piper glared back. "I think I WILL."

"FINE."

"FINE." The girl whipped around and stalked out of the room.

"And I'll PAY for it," Stork yelled after her.

"FINE!"

"FINE!" The pilot turned and stalked out the opposite door.

After a moment, Radarr emerged from under the table, eyes wide. He chirped to himself a phrase that would've somewhat resembled this.

_What just happened?_

* * *

I had this on before! It was script format, though, so it got deleted. (It was my most popular story, too!) I hope changing it didn't take away from it.

I'm not a huge Stork/Piper fan, so I don't really know where this came from. Oh well!


	14. Victory

Get out the tissues...

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen - Victory**

xXxXx

"N-no! You can't! You can't go! I-" she sobbed, and it seemed as if my heart had been wrenched out of my chest. "-I love you, Aerrow. You can't go."

The waves of agony were strengthening as I blinked slowly at her. That was good. It meant I'd be here a little while longer. Forcing a needle of concentration through the dull aches rippling through the remainder of my body, I cracked my bloody lips.

"No you don't, Piper."

"Don't talk! I'll get Stork or Starling! We'll get you fixed up in a moment." She barely made it to the end of the sentence, and it hurt even more to see her terror.

"Be quiet and listen," I interrupted. "I'll be gone in a-" I coughed, and something dislodged inside me. Something that shouldn't have been dislodged. "-in a minute. Piper, _listen_," I insisted as she began those whiny, watery cries again. "You don't love me and you never did. You're my sister and I'll always care about you, but you're in…in love with somebody else. And that's okay. I'm happy for you."

"Aerrow!" He raced over, blonde and blue flashing in my fading vision. "Hey, buddy. We did it. We won!" He smiled; I could feel it. "You did good, man. You're my bro for life. Or… forever, rather." He and I both chuckled at his error, and Piper sobbed again.

"We- we were just talking about you," I choked out, and he nodded. "Ask Piper about it later."

"Got it. Hey, Aerrow? … You were the best leader ever."

"Thanks." Something suddenly stopped hurting down low. Everything was shutting down, so I'd need to hurry.

"Just try not to boss any angels around, all right?"

"Yeah. I'll try." I smiled and agony lanced through my mind. "Don't miss me, look forward to seeing me again. Tell Radarr I-" but my voice cut off and I was gurgling blood and bile. Piper buried her face in Finn's chest and he patted me on the shoulder. He'd tell the rest of them goodbye for me.

"I got it covered. Hey! Tell all of our parents we say hi! Especially that dad of yours."

I nodded, my head half-flopping and half-moving with my muscles. It didn't matter anymore anyway. I was leaving them, but not for long. They'd see me again. Long after they'd helped the newly-freed Atmos return to its normal, happy self.

"Bye, buddy." He nudged Piper- don't know how I knew that -and through her sniffles she mumbled a goodbye too. Everything was dark now, but the pain was waning. I was falling into soft darkness and peace. And I suddenly opened my eyes, hit by an overwhelming wall of light. Pearl-colored gates gleamed before me, and I could just make out my father waving from the other side.

* * *

I've wanted to write a character death for a while now, but I didn't know _who_. I came to the conclusion that only Aerrow could go without the whole team falling apart - even in death he'd be able to keep them relatively calm and at peace. He's also the only one who seems mature and hardened enough to die without fear.

Anyway, sorry about the depressing-ness.


	15. The Suitcase

Junko: OH, THIS IS TERRIBLE! I CAN'T HANDLE IT! (sobs)

Stork: Um, Junko?

Junko: (sniff) What?

Stork: (sweatdrop) ...you didn't read it yet.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen - The Suitcase**

xXxXx

When you're intelligent, often times if you go for a while without being wrong enough to be corrected, you begin to take pride in the fact that you're always right. You begin to see your own designs on the things that surround you. You begin to believe that you truly are in tune with the world and its ways.

Then you realize, cold and hard and dropped without a second thought, that you aren't.

Piper could win an argument. She was known for it. Her logic was sound and her reasoning was practiced. She always knew just how to combat any point thrown at her. She would've been an asset to a debate team, some said; those who thought she should've been studying at an academy instead of gallivanting around with that crazy band of kids who had become legendary.

And when Piper got in a fight, it was like clockwork. Her mind went into overdrive. She could've been a machine, save for the little downward curve at the edge of her mouth and the way her moonlight – hued eyes glowed when she narrowed them. It became a battle of wills and a battle of minds, no matter who it was.

So when Aerrow, hair wet and a towel hanging off his shoulders, shouted, "Sometimes I wish you could consider what I want instead of what you do all the time – what you call 'common sense' and 'logic'." it was a very simple method in which she devised a counterstrike.

All little probes flashed as they approached the statement from all angles. Each option was weighed and the little pieces clicked together to form a sentence. It was all a test of her knowledge. It was all just a game. And the answer that came out was as sound and practical as one could be.

"Aerrow, you just need to grow up."

His mouth open slightly, his unblinking stare, filled her with necessary satisfaction. He had no response; her jab had been correct. He almost looked hurt at how right she was. In fact, now, his eyebrows had tightened down slightly and he was frozen in place.

He looked devastated.

Suddenly he turned, rust-colored locks shifting lazily in the air. He walked briskly back into the bathroom and the door slammed.

For some reason, she couldn't move. Piper stood, patiently. Part of her still expected an apology. _You're right. I guess I shouldn't have said anything. I had no right to._

But part of her was beginning to think something was wrong.

The door opened again. He had his shirt on, red peering out under his black jacket. His forest – colored eyes swept over her without a glance as he walked into the bedroom. Something told her to walk forward; squeeze in the doorway to see what he was doing so deliberately. _Maybe I shouldn't have said that,_ she thought distractedly. _That's all anyone's said to him his whole life._ But it wasn't meant harshly, right? It was a common statement. _You just need to grow up._

Besides, it was right.

She fit her small frame inside the doorway to see his broad back dropping toward the floor, his long arms reaching under the bed. The suitcase was dragged out with a high, sharp _shhhhhhf_ sound. Oddly harsh considering how soft the carpet was. A cold feeling began to swirl in the pit of her stomach.

"What- what are you doing?" Her voice sounded small in her mouth.

There were stacks of clothes on the bed, she now noticed. He pushed them off the edge in one movement, cotton and wool raining down into piles of color before the lid snapped down over them. Her vision blurred and the cold feeling began to wander down through her legs. He brushed by her and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Aerrow." Her tone was scolding; systematic. _Answer me. Explain your actions._

He didn't.

"Aerrow?" She walked numbly to the door, standing there with her arms deadweight at her sides as he pulled things out of drawers. Combs and a toothbrush, blue and silver synthetics and a roll of floss. Scooped into his arms like tiny baby animals until he dropped them into the suitcase; the zip-up coffin. With all his clothes that she wanted to smooth the wrinkles out of and place back in their drawers where they belonged.

"What are you doing? Put it … all away. You're making a mess." It was all her frantically whirling mind could come up with. They were sound, logical things to say. Yet he heeded none of them. He shoved past her and disappeared down the hallway. She followed, her feet going icy and her lungs emptying. She bumped into the wall with a graceless thud and pressed her fingers to it. Slowly, a breath in. Out. In again.

His voice was displaced by the acoustics of the hall. The syllables didn't fit together and didn't fit here. _Dreamlike,_ her mind labeled them. Because this is all a dream she'll soon wake up from. That's all that makes sense.

She had her balance back. "Who are you calling? It's late. Everyone's asleep." Her footsteps were loud and obtrusive in the room.

Enemy's footsteps.

Even as she said it words continued to spill from his lips. His long middle finger was holding the button down on the mouthpiece. A voice crackled back. It sounded like Finn.

The receiver slammed down on the holder and the world jolted as strong shoulder collided with little dainty collarbone. He was whooshing back down the hallway and her knees felt weak and her stomach hurt.

"A-Aerrow-"

The name tasted alien in her mouth. _The_ word, _the_ one instinctive word. The only word she could count on. The only one that was involuntary and immediate and the answer to any problem, the safety from any fear.

He wasn't hers anymore.

"Aerrow, come here. Sit down. I, I need you, we can figure this out. Don't just-" Tears slid into her gold eyes and a hard bump grew in the back of her throat. Invisible knives carved into her stomach walls. "-don't just leave."

The suitcase was on the floor. Angled. And noises were reaching her ears from the bedroom again. _Stop_ said a voice. She ignored it and raced in behind him.

He was holding a picture.

Slowly, his eyes traced over it. Over Stork and Junko and Finn and himself. Over Radarr. She didn't think he looked at her. Her chest felt tight.

"No, stop, you can't take that. You can't take _them_. Put – put it back. Put everything away."

The knight turned toward the bed. One quick sweep; one scan. And he was back at the suitcasecoffin, unzipping and depositing their friends, their whole life inside. Inside one little box that was going away.

"Sit down, let's talk about this," she mumbled, touching his arm, fighting to stay in one piece when her mind was running and blowing and storming so hard that it was tearing itself apart and her heart was hitting her chest so hard it hurt. "We're getting nowhere tonight. It'll all be better in the morning. You…"

Her hand tightened on his arm. "You can't leave. You can't just … throw this away. You're going to throw it all away, just like that? You-"

"Let go of me."

Pain.

He turned sharply, ripping her fingers from his sleeve. His eyes cut into hers icily.

"Aerrow…"

All there was to say.

"Don't touch me. Don't touch me _ever_ again."

"Aerrow – I – I need you. You can't leave."

The sky knight swallowed, stiffly staring at her. She wasn't sure if it was in her head or real. She couldn't hear over her screaming mind.

_Watch me._

He rose. A graceful movement she'd seen since he was fourteen and she was fifteen. This wasn't just him walking away. Aerrow was always there. Aerrow was the pillar, the ever-anchored rock for them to hold onto. Without Aerrow there was…

"Please. Don't."

Without Aerrow there was nothing.

He was walking toward the door. Her whole life – her beloved, her leader, her closest friend – striding away and not looking back.

Now she knelt in the center of the little room, of the little house. She wasn't Piper, Legendary Navigator and Tactician of the Storm Hawks.

She was little girl whose boyfriend is walking away from her for the last time. Little girl whose very existence was being torn in two; the breaks sloppy and messy and unfixable. Logic was far from relevant now. One little sentence had ended her everything.

"Don't leave." Her words were but a tiny creak in her throat. Strangled by tears and lack of oxygen.

The door slammed shut.

* * *

Yeah! I finally wrote an Aerrow/Piper fic! ...but it's about their breakup. Kinda anti-climactic.

Finn: Anti-whoodey-what-stick?

Me: (facepalm)


	16. Believe It

I like cheese puffs, yes I do! I like cheese puffs, HOW 'BOUT YOU?**

* * *

**

**Chapter Sixteen - Believe It**

xXxXx

I can't believe what I'm seeing.

Yeah, I heard the conversation beforehand. But that still doesn't make it any more … well … believable. But I'll try to recall it as accurately as possible.

"Finn! What did you do?!" I heard a squeak from the sniper as she stormed in.

"I was just looking at the crystals when-"

"You don't _look_ through that end, Finn." She paused for a moment, probably pushing him out of the way to look at the ruins of her microscope. "I can't believe this! This is the third thing you've broken this week!"

"Sorry!" he shot back halfheartedly. "I just wondered how you use it."

"Well _obviously_ not like that."

"I _said_ sorry."

"Sorry doesn't replace the microscope, crystal scope, and twenty-three test tubes you broke."

"Well what am I supposed to do?! It's not my fault you don't put your stuff away when you're not using it."

"_Maybe_ you shouldn't come in here."

"_Maybe_ you're not my mom."

"Maybe I should've been. I would've taught you some manners."

"Manners?! Do you have any idea how uncool that sounds?!"

"Uncool?! Finn, we're talking serious _research_ here! Coolness is hardly relevant!"

"Coolness is always relevant, Piper! Maybe that's why you don't have any friends!"

I bit my lip. That was completely ignorant. And cruel too. I was about to go in to ask about our location or something when Piper responded.

"Finn…" She took a minute to compose herself. "You are the most childish, rude, self-centered, and ignorant person I know. You never think before you act. You never think before you talk. You never- and I mean _never_ -consider anybody else's feelings either."

"What?! Yes I do! When Aerrow's happy I can sneak up and tackle him. If he's mad I don't. When Stork's in a good mood I can bug him, but if he's upset… well, then I bug him too, but _you_ get the idea!"

"Yeah? And when _I'm_ upset about something?"

"I leave you alone!"

"See? That's just like you. When you cause a problem you just run off and hide, but when somebody could use a little cheering up you take the easy way out and leave!"

"Cheering up?!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Who needs cheering up?!"

"Me, Finn! _I_ do! I spend all day working hard, half the time messing up and wasting all of our valuable crystals. So when I finally get done and you all treat me like I've been napping all afternoon, like _somebody_ actually _does_, how do you think that makes me feel?!" I began to feel guilty at that statement, because I'd had no idea we were hurting her feelings. "I mean, at least Stork worries about me! Even his paranoia is better than nothing."

"Fine, Piper! _Fine!_ What do you want me to do?!"

"I-" she started out yelling, but quieted down when she kept going. "I just want you to care."

"Wh- how can I when all you do is get mad at me? I can't do anything right!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Well, I'm sorry too. We're all your friends, Piper." There was a little pause. "But what do I do?"

"Just ... one little thing."

"What- Piper, what are you doing? I don't think that's a good-" but something cut him off, and I had to peer through the door. I just had to. They were at one end of the wide table. Piper seemed flustered and timid, and Finn looked like a blue-eyed deer in headlights. Her tiny hand was on the side of his face, and he blinked in shock as she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. For a moment I thought he was going to faint, but just then his eyes fell closed and he wrapped his arms around her. Can this happen? Is it even _allowed_ to happen? I felt my mouth curve up in delight. Crazy as it sounds, I'm happy for them.

But I still can't believe it.

* * *

Okay. I'm gonna quit with the Finn x Piper stuff, I promise.

Finn: Cha, dude. It's completely ridiculous. (looks away innocently)


	17. Five More Minutes

**Chapter Seventeen - Five More Minutes**

xXxXx

She bared her teeth as the doors opened silently and he trudged in. He was bent over, arm around his stomach, one eye closed and blood oozing from it.

"Master," he rasped, falling to his knees as he coughed and spat blood. Her eyes narrowed in silent, brooding anger as she looked at the crystal she was attempting to construct.

"You didn't kill him, did you?"

"N…no." At the words she knew would come, she whipped around and stared at him with hate.

"How dare you drag yourself back here with your job unfinished," she hissed as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. "Do you really think I have the patience for their interference? And your disobedience?"

"No, your highness. Forgive me." His face was twisted in pain as he spoke, and she didn't know whether the injuries or dissatisfying her hurt him more. Her eyes wandered over his frame. His black hair was plastered in clumps with sweat; his armor was dull and scratched badly. His long nose was cut and his dark lips were caked with his blood. His long, slender neck was bruised, and his uniform was torn to reveal other bloody cuts on his bronze body. Although battered and defeated, he was brutally graceful and horrifically beautiful. Her rage was tempered by her perpetual awe at how angelic he was and she closed her eyes. No matter how many times he lost to a sky knight, she couldn't kill him; couldn't even say no to him. To the way his deep, throaty voice softened when he spoke to her; to the way the torchlight made his hair glisten and his eyes blaze. Everything about him was eerie and ethereal, as if he were a fallen angel.

"I forgive you, Dark Ace. Get yourself cleaned up and back here quickly. I have need of you elsewhere."

"Yes, Master."

"Dark Ace?"

"Y-yes?" He looked up and his striking red eyes made her heart skip a beat beneath her robes.

"Try to last at least five more minutes against them next time." He blinked, surprised, and nodded, embarrassed.

"Yes, Master Cyclonis."

She smiled.

* * *

You like it??


	18. Mercy

**Chapter Eighteen - Mercy**

xXxXx

The woman knew pleas for mercy were useless, yet they raked her throat endlessly as the Talon approached. Her tiny daughter gripped her shirt, huddling behind her as he approached. The girl's fistful of her mother's shirt was shaking.

"Please, please, no," wept she, tears streaming down her face. "Take anything! Just don't hurt my baby. _Please_ let her go."

"Shut up," he growled. The stone at the end of his staff snapped with electricity as he raised it.

A howl of grief rose from her throat as she fell to her knees. "No! No, Sarah, run! _PLEASE, NO!_"

The Talon's teeth glinted as he sneered, lifting his weapon. She shielded her face with one hand, clenching her teeth as she braced herself.

Cold liquid spattered her face.

"Mommy!" The child hugged her mother tightly and the woman opened her eyes.

The Talon's smile was gone.

He stood before her, eyes wide, mouth agape.

Dead.

She cringed as the man fell to his knees; slapped against the broken floorboards. Red spurted from the arrow protruding from his neck.

"Mommy!"

"Come here, baby!" She twisted around and wrapped her arms around her little girl, sobbing. "It's okay. Everything's okay."

A crack made her jump. She turned her wide eyed up at the silhouette ahead.

"You okay?" He took another step, knocking a pile of rubble over.

"Y-yes." She nodded, smiling weakly as her daughter peered up over her mother's embrace. The kid grinned and pushed another arrow into his crossbow.

"Sweet."

She opened her mouth to speak and he whipped around, darting back into the street.

* * *

Yeah. A wee bit violent. Tis going to be rated M, methinks.

Feedback, anyone?


	19. For Now

Kids, cover your eyes!!

Junko: (covers eyes)

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen - For Now**

xXxXx

Obsession.

Pure and simple.

No excuses and no lies. It is undeniable and all-encompassing. It is wrong - one might even call it evil.

But whatever you call it; it is always there. Heavy and intoxicating; icy and refreshing all at once. Ever present and looming in the background, waiting to spring.

He is there. Neither of them should be, of course. But so it happens, almost everyone does things he or she shouldn't. And for that very reason, she is there too. She can feel him there. She knows he is thinking about her.

Impossible.

But very true.

He catches her eyes from across the room, through the curtains and smoke. Through all the people who probably shouldn't be there either. Like magnets, her emerald rings dotted with the darkest onyx scrape against the red beams of his and hold there. One of the many reels of time being spun through at this very moment stops.

He fights.

To get to her; to get through everything else.

She searches.

For anywhere to hide.

And in exactly twenty five seconds, his hand is around her tiny wrist and she is pulling him toward a door. A door into a dark room full of boxes and cobwebs and all the little things that make a secret need keeping.

_What are you doing here?_ Her gaze brushes down his neck and chest; her fingers cup the sides of his face. His hands skirt her waist as if it is too hot to grip.

Too wonderful to really be there.

_Me? What are _you_ doing here? Why…_ her fingertips brush the roots of his hair and the smoke in his mind swirls thicker. _…why are you…_

_I've been looking for you. I missed you._ She is breathing as hard as if he were about to kill her. Little, sharp, ragged sweepings in and out of lungs being pounded on by a fluttering heart. But if she were to die, only she would be to blame.

No words touch her ears. He speaks with his hands, gripping and grasping and touching everything. His fingers hook around her shoulders. They wander down her back. The right hand finally stops on her neck. Her palms are against his chest.

_I've been busy. But I can't stop thinking about you._

An admission that weakens him to the core to let go.

Obvious; superfluous.

_I…_ she evaluates. Was it necessary to say? Did he already know?

She hates small talk.

He lets off a sound when she kisses him. It is low and rumbling, and the break in his mouth moves as her lips push against it. She withdraws and he catches her lips again; heart racing. Body pulsing with the frenetic heartbeat only achieved by doing something you really shouldn't.

Tingles.

Tiny and twisted and scampering through nerves and to minds and racing over goosebumps under armor and leather and pride.

_No, we can't –_ their lips meet again. _–we can't do this. Not now._

_Yes we – _his mind's eye flutters momentarily closed as she kisses his neck. _–yes we can. Just don't let it…_

_Don't let it…_

Let it what?

Let it get the best of you?

Haunt your every thought; your every movement for weeks?

A laugh.

A little sound of delight as his teeth brush the tender skin at the base of her neck. A sound shared between those in companionship. Those who trust each other.

Between a hero and a villain.

_We're going to get caught._ A prospect that would kill both of them, let off in a playful, careless tone.

_Whatever it takes to get you going._ Another laugh and another, harder, feverish kiss. The people outside have no idea. The stares scrape against each other, the impact on the two bodies cushioned by heavy whooshing breaths and warmth spanning their entire bodies, heating the ends of her long hair and the tips of her fingernails.

Worry.

An urgency that makes his hands work faster at the stupid straps on the armor protecting her stomach. If they do get caught, it will be a victory to that cursed thing that binds them together with its filthy, twisted, silken fingers. It will laugh as they are both hanged for treason.

Need.

A sound works its was from between her parted lips; one that is not a word yet speaks volumes. A sound that has passed through many mouths of many different people for as long as Time itself can remember. A sound that is very human; very physical. Yet the closest thing to magic ever to be heard.

Heat.

A floor that has been less than half a human's usual body heat is now hotter than a summer day. Heavy breaths swirl into the still, sludgy air, spinning and mixing it to life once more.

Mocking.

Love mocking stiffly-clothed Good-versus-Evil, scoffing at the total disregard of the rules he has built. _This is wrong and therefore they choose it for the wrong reasons_, he says gruffly, waving the magic that's flickering through the air away from his face.

Love doesn't have to say anything. She merely points.

For though he is her enemy, she grips his shoulders because they're his shoulders.

Kisses his cheek because its his.

Gazes into his eyes because they belong to him.

He presses his lips to the small indentation on her pale forehead. The one he made when he struck her with the tip of his sword. The one she swore she'd kill him for. He rests his head against the shoulder he nearly dislocated when he kicked her, when she tried to attack his master. He holds onto her side, thumb over her small stomach. He is steadying it against all the things he's done that make her sick. Because this thick, heady intoxication is so close to love it's frightening.

_Don't stop._

He's not sure if he imagined it or if she really said it.

She isn't either.

_Never._

He makes a point of not knowing whether his words were thought or spoken.

She does as well.

Curiosity.

It's not like neither of them has done this before. Nobody waits anymore, nobody has that much self-respect.

Yet for some reason, he's always a little bit afraid.

For some reason, she expects to learn things she didn't know.

His eyes wander over her as if he's never seen a woman before. He's seen hundreds.

But she makes him feel as if this is the first.

She stares at his scars. She wonders how he got them.

She wonders how many are from her.

Thoughts.

Because no matter how normal it would be to let it all go, to not think, so simply _feel_, they can't help themselves. There's so much to her and so much to him and though they've given each other all they have to give, they're strangers.

Unfamiliar.

Her eyes keep wandering over his muscles. She thinks of the years it took to develop them. Of all the hard work. She wishes she knew what he's wondering as another moan slides between her lips.

He wishes he had the time to stay with her after this to tell her. He buries his head in the crook of her neck. Ironic. The commander of uncountable armies hiding against somebody else.

Pain.

Because ending, finishing, parting is all so much harder when it can't be counted on to happen again.

A goodbye only hurts when it could be the last.

Their lips are like magnets, too hard to pull apart. Especially after all that's just been done to their muscles and nerve endings and souls. They're exhausted. Maybe that's why love is designed the way it is. To cement the two to the spot where the deepest declaration of affection has been made. So when one wakes up, he sees her next to him. To establish trust, just in case it's all been done backwards.

Like with these two.

Her hands run across his chest once more, warm under his leather and armor. Because a whole adventure is no longer between her and he and their parting. Because the creature she's holding onto could be buried or burned or torn apart before she has another chance to be close to him.

He wraps his arms around her, holding her against him. They're very close, of course. But a physical metaphor won't hurt. He clutches his little enemy, knowing that the next time he holds her, he could be carrying her corpse back to his master as a trophy.

They _are_ enemies, after all.

It's perfectly practical.

And so the obsession grows a little more. Its vines grow a little thicker as the memories of one another's scents and voices are implanted a little deeper into their minds. The hunger for her expands just a little as she gazes back at him, making her way through the crowd. As she escapes the crime scene.

As she escapes him.

He stands at the door. He watches her go. He closes his beautiful red eyes and tries to imagine her walking down the street, eyes shifting warily and tongue still thick with his flavor.

She is gone.

The hole in his heart is full. For now.

* * *

HOLY GEEZ! That took forever!!

Inspired by "Shh," by Frou Frou. It's a great song.


End file.
